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Your need is intense, he tells me, fascinated. His fingers skim over my face as I move up to kiss him. Pleasuring me turned you on that much?
It turns you on to go down on me, why wouldn't it? I rub my face against his hand, like a kitten needing to be petted.
Always true, he replies, and his mind floods with possessiveness. You are mine to pleasure, are you not?
Yours.
He pulls me down against him, and in a swift movement, rolls us on the mattress until I'm underneath him and he's on top. His thick, golden hair is framing his head like a halo, stiff with tangles, but I think he's beautiful. It is my turn to pleasure you, he tells me. Is your cunt wet for me?
I squirm as he descends between my trembling thighs. Always.
Good.
I'm so primed that I cry out the moment his mouth closes over my clit. He sucks on it, like I did the head of his cock, and it sends a wave of entirely new sensations through me. It doesn't take me long to come, either. It feels like an eye-blink and then I'm crashing, the orgasm rolling like a tidal wave. I let it sweep over me, drowning in the sensation of my mate's mouth on my clit until I'm quivering and out of breath. He gives me one final, languid lick, and I can feel the lazy pleasure in his mind. He likes making me come as much as I like making him come.
We're…a good…team, I tell him, breathless and dazed as I lie on my back.
He puts an arm around me, hauling me close, and nuzzles at my hair and ear. Was that too quick? Should I do it again?
I laugh, because the thought of coming that hard again so soon makes me tired. "Give me a moment to relax, will you?" I nudge him. "You and your drakoni libido."
You like my drakoni libido. He nips my earlobe.
I really do. I snuggle against him. But my poor human body needs a small break.
A small one, then, he teases in that maddeningly arrogant way of his. But only a small one.
I roll my eyes and curl up against him. To think I had no idea what I was in for when Mhal suddenly appeared in my dreams. A life of freedom and endless orgasms. Sure, it's also a life of lots of meat and constantly wind-tangled hair, but I still find it preferable to turning in my panties at the fort every day to be used as dragon lures.
I do not like that they did that, Mhal tells me, his arms protective as he holds me against him. It seems dishonest.
"Mmm." I'm not entirely sure if it is dishonesty. I think Azar really does want women mated to dragons. In that, he's utterly truthful. It's just the reasoning behind it is sketchy. He wants to force the dragons to be beholden to the fort or something.
Or he wants to steal their minds like he did mine. Anger suffuses his thoughts.
"I'm not sure if that's the case," I say, then pause when I feel the flare of scorn in his mind. "I'm not disagreeing with you, Mhal. But it doesn't match what I saw, that's all." I open my mind—I'm getting better at that sort of thing—so he can see my memories. So he can see Gwen and her mate, or my friend Rachel with her drakoni mate, Jurik. Both men never had the strange gray eyes that Mhal did, the sign that the Salorian lord of Fort Dallas was taking over a dragon's mind.
I've learned a lot since mating with Mhal. Now I know that Lord Azar isn't a lord at all, and he's not from Earth. He's another transplant, like the drakoni. A Salorian. And like the drakoni, he's stranded here. He also has mental powers that he uses to take over the dragon minds, not magic like I'd foolishly originally thought.
And back in Mhal's world, the Salorians are the enemy.
They are evil, he tells me, his thoughts filled with disgust. The farther we are away from him and his kind, the better. I do not wish to be trapped by him again.
Do you think he can do that? Trap you again? The thought worries me.
I think he will try. Once caught by a Salorian, you are always vulnerable. He will always have a pathway into my mind. The queen would have me executed if she knew the truth.
He's mentioned the queen before, but never said much. I wonder if he has more memories now. I glance up at him. Tell me about the queen? Tell me about your home? Can you remember anything more?
Mhal's connection to me—like an ever-present touch in the mind—becomes momentarily hazy as he searches through his memories. She was…very beautiful. Very remote. The face in his memories is blurry—a woman with pale reddish-gold skin and hair that is as long and flowing as her robes. She was our leader, but the Salorians controlled her. They kept her in their strange cities instead of in our aeries. She wore clothes like they did, and did not fly free like our people. I do not think I ever saw her leave the palace.
